


The Bitch of Living

by Michaelssushi



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Catholic AU, Church AU, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, ITS ABOUT THE YEARNING, No Spoilers, Nun/Biker AU, Religious Themes, She/Her Pronouns for Fujisaki Chihiro, Trans Girl Chihiro, like literal hurt bc chihiro’s practicing first aid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29035767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssushi/pseuds/Michaelssushi
Summary: Inside her room, with a candle lit to guide her, Chihiro Fujisaki dresses for bed, laying her skirt and habit on the bed to change into her nightgown.
Relationships: Fujisaki Chihiro/Oowada Mondo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	The Bitch of Living

**Author's Note:**

> I know most of y’all are subscribed for Reddie so I’m sorry to disappoint. This will be a multi chapter fic! Also gender discourse comments will be deleted :)

Rain spits down on the roof of the convent, harmonizing with the sound of cars whooshing by and splashing through puddles with their tires. Mid-July always brought rain and sticky humidity to the Kansai region, but the insides of the monastery kept them out for the most part, except for the occasions when the air conditioner decided to break. 

Inside her small room, with a candle lit to guide her, Chihiro Fujisaki dresses for bed, laying her skirt and habit onto the bed to change into her nightgown. She fights back a yawn as she slips the gown on— it had been a long day for her, up at dawn making food for the day and cleaning until sunset. She’d finished her chores for today, much to her relief; now all she needed to do was say her prayers and she could fall asleep peacefully. 

She places her hand on her bible, kneeling down onto the wooden floor. “Heavenly father,” she begins, her voice barely above a whisper, “I thank you for-“

Somewhere in the convent, a door opens loudly; it sounds like it comes from the front of the building, from the chapel where the services are held. 

“Oh dear,” Chihiro says softly to herself, crossing herself to apologize for her half-baked prayer and quickly throwing on a cardigan, wrapping a scarf loosely around her head. Most likely it’s a homeless person trying to get away from the rain; and as a nun, she had no place to refuse him or her. 

Her candle flickers in the breeze of the AC as she walks towards the chapel, her bare feet padding against the stone floor. She’s always the one that does this sort of thing— her room is closest to the chapel, a stone’s throw away from the double doors that separate the two parts of the church. 

“Hello?” she calls as she pushes the door open, holding her candle out into the room. Really, all it does is illuminate her face for the stranger in the pews; lights from the city already pour into the church through the stained glass windows. 

“Sorry about bargin’ in like this,” a gruff voice says, “I just needed to get out of the rain. Hope you don’t mind.”

The lights reflect a silhouette sitting near the front of the congregation. It’s a man— rather large one, at that. His shoulders are broad and he seems tall, even when sitting down. 

“It’s no problem at all,” Chihiro says softly, “though I do wish I had known you were a man. I would have thrown my habit on before greeting you.”

“Oh, my bad. Do you want me to look away?” he asks, his head turning. 

Chihiro considers it before shaking her head, “no, that’s alright. I’ll be turning the lights on now.” 

Her hand fumbles along the wall to find the light switch, small fingers finally flipping it on. For the first time she can see the man clearly; rain drips from his face and body, sticking his clothes tight to his chest. He looks beat up, as if he’d been in a fight. His face is handsome, yet bruised purple and black, dried blood cracking around his nostrils. 

They make eye contact, and Chihiro’s heart skips a beat before she snaps back into reality. 

“Oh my goodness!” she fusses, immediately peering at the man, “you're all banged up! You must be in pain, sir, sit tight and I’ll grab you some medical supplies-“

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” the man waves his hand, “It’ll heal up by itself. Raw-dogging my injuries like mother nature intended.”

He must notice the horrified look on the nun’s face, because he immediately apologizes. 

“I- I want to help you. Just stay there and I’ll grab some bandages and alcohol, I promise I won’t be long.” 

“But lady-“

“N-no buts. Christ said, `` What _ you do for my brothers you do for me,”  _ Chihiro says semi-firmly, not quite confidently but definitely enough for the man to shut up.

Before he can open his mouth to protest, she scampers off back into the convent. The medical supplies are exactly where they should be- she grabs an armful of various bottles and bandage wraps, as well as a towel to dry him off. It’s a big load for a smaller girl like herself, but she’s a tough cookie; she can handle carrying something a few feet. 

When she enters the chapel again, the man is reclined against one of the pews, his wet shoes on the velour cushions. 

“Here,” she gently pushes his feet aside under the guise of sitting next to him, plopping her load down on the floor. She leans in close to the stranger, her small fingers brushing over his injuries to examine them; she notices his eyes are a deep purple, depended by the enormous black bruise forming under his eye. 

“I think we skipped over introductions,” she says softly as she grabs some alcohol and a band-aid, “I’m sister Fujisaki. What’s your name?” 

“Mondo Owada. Nice to meet you, sister,” the man grunts, watching with a grimace as Chihiro pours some alcohol onto a cotton ball. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. This will only sting a little bit,” she gives him a gentle smile, the one she saves for the crying children in the nursery during Sunday services. Her thumb brushes over the gash on Mondo’s cheekbone before she presses the cotton ball to it; he winces softly as she pats it, but stays quiet. 

Chihiro parts her lips, a thought bubbling up in her throat.  _ How did you get like this?  _ she wants to ask.  _ Did you fight someone?  _ He’s big and strong, and seems like he’d be able to hold his own in a fight.  _ Maybe some sort of accident? _

But it would be rude to pry, and nuns are never rude. Mondo must catch her lips parted mid question though; he chuckles, allowing her to press the bandaid on his cut before he speaks again. 

“Bar Fight. Someone was messing with some lady who just wanted a drink, so I punched him. Glasses got thrown as well as punches, hence the cuts,” he says, watching as Chihiro wraps an ice pack in cloth. 

“This will help the bruise go away faster,” she says, pressing it to his eye with her small hand. 

“Aw. I thought I looked pretty cool with a black eye,” he jokes, earning a soft giggle from her. 

“It’s fresh, so it must hurt. I’ll put some aloe vera gel on it too once the ice pack’s been on long enough,” she says softly, “are you hurt anywhere else?”

“My knuckles got banged up pretty bad,” he shows her his hands— they’re large, covered with rough calluses and dark purple bruises. 

“Oh my,” Chihiro mutters as she grabs some bandage wrap. “I’m going to apply pressure, okay? It might hurt a bit.” 

As she wraps his fingers snugly with the bandages, she can feel his eyes on her; dragging from the top of her head to her eyelashes, to her pink cheeks. “You’re really a lifesaver,” Mondo says, letting Chihiro take his other hand to wrap. “Can I pay you back for this, or…?”

“No, no,” she’s shaking her head rapidly before he can even finish her sentence, “it’s just basic first aid, sir. One should always be charitable to even strangers. Do you know the parable of the Good Samaritan?” 

“No, ma’am,” Mondo looks down at her as he presses the ice pack firmer onto his eye, “enlighten me.”

“A man was stumbled upon by a gang of thieves and left half dead on the side of the road. They took his money and his clothes and left him to die,” she starts cheerfully. 

“First a Jewish priest came by, but did not help him. Then, a Levite came by after him, but also did not help the man. But after that, a Samaritan came along, and he  _ did  _ help the man,” Chihiro has finished bandaging his hands, but she still continues with her story; “He bathed the man’s wounds in oil and wine, gave him clothes, and gave him a horse to ride on.” 

“He took the man to an innkeeper and gave the man gold, and told him such; ‘use this gold to take care of this man, and if you spend any more I will pay you back’.”

“Sounds like a nice guy, this Samaritan,” Mondo says, leaning back against the pew. Chihiro giggles, her hands digging into the cloth of her nightgown. 

“That’s the point. You must always be kind to your neighbors,” she says, “That’s what Jesus tells us in the Gospel of Luke.”

“You’re a good storyteller, sister,” Mondo comments, their eyes meeting again. 

“Thank you. I always read to the children during sunday school,” she explains, “Now. Just a few more minutes with the ice pack on, and you can go.”

“Actually… I hate to ask this, but could I stay in here until the rain stops? I don’t have a car, I ride a motorcycle.”

Chihiro’s eyes widen at the mere  _ thought  _ of that sort of death machine. “Oh my. Of course you may, but perhaps I could call you a taxi, I mean surely you know how da-“

“Dangerous motorcycles are?” Mondo raises an eyebrow at her, stopping the sentence dead in her throat. 

“Erm, yes. I wouldn’t want you getting any more injured, even after the rain stops the roads will be slick and-“ 

“I appreciate the concern, but can take care of myself, sister,” the man pats her shoulder gently, effectively making her mouth close. “I’m assuming you’ve never actually been on a motorcycle, have you?”

“Oh goodness, no!” Chihiro squeaks, pulling her cardigan tighter around her. 

Silence falls between the pair, the city lights warping on their faces through the stained glass. 

“Do you want to go on one?”

Chihiro buries her face in her hands to hide her blush, a noise between a squeal and a shriek escaping her. “Oh no, no no! I could never, I’m only in my nightgown now and we’re not even supposed to leave the covenant at night, not to mention-“

“I… I never said I was going to give you a ride,” Mondo laughs, effectively turning the nun’s cheeks from pink to red. “Don’t sweat it, alright? I’m just saying, you only live once.”

Chihiro huffs, turning away from the man. “I won’t throw away the precious life God gave me on that death machine.” 

“Whatever you say, sister,” Mondo slings his arm around her shoulder— the touch makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. 

_ Oh my stars. Why on earth do I feel like this? _

“It doesn’t look like the rain’s planning on easing up any time soon. I suppose a little rain won’t hurt me,” Mondo starts, only to have a hand push his bicep back down. 

“You’ll catch a cold,” Chihiro argues, “It’s no trouble at all, really. Stay as long as you need to. I might go back to bed soon, but you can stay in the chapel until it stops raining.”

Mondo looks down at her, and Chihiro can’t help but take in how…  _ attractive  _ he is. Eyeliner is smudged carelessly around his eyes, and she laughs softly to herself as she thinks of how he wears more makeup than her, even though she’s a girl. His shoulders are broad and his pecs are defined under his wet shirt— suddenly she feels like a young girl at sunday school again, giggling over a glossy centerfold of a sexy, ripped western man with her classmates while the teacher’s back was turned. 

That’s what Mondo was like, to be frank; one of those muscular models for American perfume companies, flexing his big arms with a bottle of perfume in his hands. 

The mental image makes Chihiro laugh, earning a confused glance from her partner. 

“Something the matter, sister?” 

She realizes her eyes must have been lingering, much to her embarrassment. “No, no. Sorry about that,” she mumbles. 

_ You shouldn’t be thinking such things, Chihiro. You were a sinner when you were a young girl, ogling those men like that, and you’re a sinner now when you look at Mr. Owada like that too.  _

“You know, you’re pretty cute,” Mondo snaps her out of her thoughts, “I’m sure if you weren’t a nun, you’d have guys all over you.” 

_ Cute?  _ Chihiro’s stomach turns again, her hands instinctively pulling her cardigan tighter against her body. 

“That just wasn’t the right path for me,” she says, refusing to look in his eyes, “I’m married to God now, and I always will be.”

Mondo laughs, his hand landing on her shoulder. “Alright, sister. I suppose it was worth a shot.”

“Mr. Owada, I don’t think trying to flirt with nuns is a great pastime,” Chihiro murmurs, crossing her legs. 

“You can call me Mondo. I don’t love formalities,” he simply replies. 

Silence falls again, save for the noise of rain on the roof. 

“Shall we pray together?” Chihiro asks suddenly, standing and taking Mondo’s hand. 

“Sure thing, sister, but why?” Mondo follows her out of the pew towards the front of the chapel, to the altar. 

“You’re a lost soul, Mondo. You are kind, yet you participate in violence and attempt to flirt with the wives of Christ. You just need God’s love in your heart,” she kneels, signaling for him to do the same. She can feel him watching as she pulls her rosary out from under the collar of her nightgown, wrapping it around her knuckles and pressing her palms together. 

“Close your eyes and let me do the talking,” she says as he mirrors her actions, his palms together as he kneels beside her. 

“Heavenly father,” she begins, “I come to you in prayer asking for forgiveness of this man’s sins, as well as my own. I believe that Jesus is your Son, and he died at the cross of the Calvary for our sins, so that we might be forgiven and have eternal life in the kingdom of heaven.”

She can feel Mondo’s eyes on her, studying her as she worships, but she doesn’t say a word. 

“Please forgive my friend’s sins— he knows not what he has done, he has not yet been born again as a Christian. Allow him to be cleansed by the blood of Jesus, and be able to spend eternity in heaven with myself and the other Christians of the world. In your name we pray, Amen.” 

“Amen,” Mondo murmurs. 

They stay there for a few more moments, knees digging into the carpet. 

“You should be able to take the ice pack off now. I’ll put some aloe vera on the bruise,” Chihiro finally breaks the silence as Mondo stands. He offers her a hand; his hand dwarfs hers as she takes it, standing up on weak knees. 

_ Don’t let your mind wander. You just prayed for this man’s sins— don’t be careless and let yourself be emerged in earthly desires.  _

They sit back down in the pew, Chihiro leaning over to unwrap the bandage securing the ice pack. Mondo smells like motor oil and leather, she notices; she’d never met a biker before tonight, but it’s exactly what she imagined they would smell like. 

“Here. Stay still,” she squirts some aloe vera onto her hand, her fingertips meeting the cold skin under his eye to rub it in. 

“Thank you for this, sister, really. You’re sure I can’t pay you back?” He asks gently, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of her fingers against his face. 

“I’m certain, sir,” Chihiro smiles, “Well, maybe you could come to service this Sunday. I would certainly appreciate that.” 

“I’ll pencil it in,” he chuckles. They’re silent again, listening to the  _ pit-pat-pit-pat  _ of the rain on the church. 

And Chihiro feels safe, safe enough to lean her head gently against his broad shoulder. It’s a friendly gesture, and he returns it by grabbing the end of her headscarf and playing with the frayed ends. 

The pair are quiet, listening to the rain and the wind. Tomorrow the chapel will be bustling with nuns and the priest for morning prayer, but now it’s quiet and calm. It’s just Chihiro and Mondo, and… 

_ Quit that,  _ Chihiro thinks sleepily, her eyelids already beginning to droop. 

The last thing she thinks as she dozes off is,  _ I should probably tell Mr. Owada that I’m going back to my room.  _

___

Chihiro wakes up to a hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake. It’s sister Asahina, Her eyes wide and concerned. “Morning, sister,” Chihiro mumbles, rubbing her eyes and sitting up in the pew. 

“Sister Fujisaki, what on earth..?” she starts, kneeling down to look at her, “you scared me half to death when you weren’t in your bed this morning!” 

“Oh, forgive me,” she sits up straight, adjusting her hair scarf. “We had a visitor last night who needed first aid. I must have fallen asleep from taking care of him.”

“How bizarre. There wasn’t anyone except for you in the chapel this morning,” she frowns, looking around. Chihiro registers the sound of rain still patting away, and can’t help but scoff a bit. 

“I told him not to go until the rain stops, now he’ll catch a cold. Foolish man,” she huffs, holding back a yawn. 

“It was a man? He didn’t try anything… unholy, did he?”

“Hm? Goodness, no. He was very polite, in fact. He was rough around the edges but… he was kind. We prayed together, even though he wasn’t the religious type.”

“You have more patience than I do, sister,” Asahina smiles, “Come, get dressed. Morning prayer will start soon.” 

As Chihiro makes her way back down the hallway, she unwraps the scarf from her head. She can’t help but wonder if Mondo’s alright now; she hopes he got home safe, that he kept the bandages on. She hopes he doesn’t catch a cold, either. 

As she changes into her habit, his face still lingers in her mind— she tries to push it back down, but the image still stays, bruises and cuts and all. He must be even more handsome without his injuries, like one of those models… 

_ Stop that, brain,  _ she scolds herself as she slips her rosary around her neck, rubbing her thumb across the wood. 

The other nuns have already gathered in the church by the time she comes out— she finds her usual spot in the front pew between sisters Asahina and Maizono. 

The priest comes to the front, and her sisters bow their heads to begin the prayer; Chihiro follows, her hands clasped around her cross, but she blocks out the priest’s voice as she says a prayer of her own internally. 

_ Heavenly father, I thank you for allowing me to wake up another day. Please do what you do best and guide Mr. Owada back into my life— I truly believe I can save him from a life in hellfire. Give me a heart that can be patient and kind in love, and the strength to bear his troubles as well as my own. Let our paths intertwine yet again, so I may see his soul be set free. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.  _

The rest of the day passes like normal, Chihiro bustling along in doing her chores. It’s a Saturday, so there are no children in the daycare; when she isn’t working, she reads her latest Jane Austen novel. It’s so normal, she almost forgets about the night before, about Mondo’s eyes, how he touched her shoulder, his low voice… 

She doesn’t think about him again until after her bath, when she’s dressing for bed again. Her nightgown has just floated down to her knees when a knock sounds on the door, quick and loud. She throws her headscarf on in case it’s the priest, only to open the door to sister Maizono. 

“You have mail, sister Fujisaki,” she smiles, holding out an envelope to her. “Secret admirer?”

“You know I would never entertain that,” Chihiro blushes, “Thank you, sister. Goodnight.”

“God bless you,” Sister Maizono replies before shutting the door. 

There’s no name or return address on it, just  _ For Sister Fujisaki  _ printed in messy handwriting. She rips the envelope open with her thumb to pull out the piece of paper, which is surprisingly blank, save for a few words. 

_ Morning Sister,  _

_ I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for everything you did for me, it’s the least I could do to show up.  _

_ At your service,  _

_ Mondo Owada.  _

Chihiro doesn't sleep a wink. 


End file.
